


The Vacation

by geethr75



Series: The Vampire and the Hunter [1]
Category: Dracula: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geethr75/pseuds/geethr75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A holiday has unexpected consequences for Max</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

Max was feeling bored. This vacation was beginning to be a very bad idea. But after the accident, it had seemed like a good idea to take some time off. But since the accident had not caused any damage and had only shaken him up a bit, within a week he was bored with his surroundings. There was nothing to do but to swim and to watch the sea and learn how to dive or surf. But to Max, the sea was rather less challenging than vampire hunting. He was strongly beginning to suspect his family’s motives in sending him off to this god forsaken beach ostensibly to recuperate.

Of course he had known neither his mother nor Chris was very happy about his line of work. Sophie and Klaus were equally opposed to it. They all knew firsthand the dangers inherent in vampire hunting and they had done everything in their power to stop Max from making it his career. But their power over him was nil and their influence very limited. In addition to which there was nothing else Max wanted to do with his life. So, in the end his family had accepted his decision with good grace. Or so it had seemed to Max till recently.

The alacrity with which his family had packed him off on this holiday, however, showed that their opinions hadn’t changed at all. Being in the line of work that he was in, it was impossible for Max to be so shaken up that he needed a break. But the doctor, who Max began to suspect was in cahoots with his family, had advised him to take a break, and since his family were also quite adamant, Max had agreed. He was also, he thought, a bit shaken up at the time and his family probably knew it.

Max stifled a yawn and glanced at his watch. It was nearly four. He stretched himself and looked around the beach. Only a few swimmers were there, stretched in the sand at various places. At least, he reflected, the place was not crowded. That was the only good thing about this place. He was not prepared to make small talk with a lot of strangers who somehow felt the need to spill their lifestories to chance acquaintances.

Max got up from where he was lying, picked up his towel and shook the sand out of it. Wrapping himself in it, he walked back to the hotel. At least, thought he, I will have a tan to show for this totally pointless break. He yawned again. One more day of this and he would certainly go mad. His room had been booked for three weeks, but that was of no importance.

On reaching his hotel, Max went straight to the reception. The clerk at the table gave him the smile practiced by hotel clerks the world over. Max returned the smile, noticing in passing that the girl was rather attractive. Her smile would have been attractive too, had she been more sincere about it.  
“How may I help you, sir?” she asked, still with that smile”

“I want to check if any tickets are available on the next flight to New York,” he said. 

“Oh, are you leaving, sir?” she asked. “I thought your reservation was up to the 29th.”

“Yes, but something came up at work.” 

“All right, sir. I will make enquiries.” The smile was back. 

“Thank you,” 

“Thank you, sir.”

Turning to leave, Max froze on his track. He stared intently at the man who just walked into the hotel and turned back to the receptionist.

“On second thoughts,” said he. “I think I will stay till the 29th.”  
She smiled, this time a genuine smile.

Max turned again and nearly bumped into the man whom he had watched just a few seconds ago.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact with the stranger.

“it’s all right,” said the man in a strangely accented voice. Max all but ran from the reception. He sank on to a sofa on reaching his room and was surprised to find that he was shaking. 

“For God’s sake, Maximillian,” he muttered. But he was shaken, he admitted to himself. This was the last place on earth he would have expected to find Dracula. 

“Damn!” muttered Max. He had none of his vampire hunting equipments. Or rather, nothing suitable for a quarry as tough as Dracula. What he had was defensive, suitable only for protecting himself from an attack. He was not expecting to hunt vampires during this vacation. 

Max wondered if Dracula had recognized him. True, it has been nearly twenty years since he had seen him, but vampires had a highly developed sense of smell, Max knew. It was quite possible that the twenty nine year old Max and the ten year old Max had the same smell. But he could hope that Dracula did not associate him with the most successful vampire hunter of their time. He had gone to great lengths to protect his identity, but Dracula was not just another vampire. Max gave a mental shrug. He would be prepared, but he would not worry. He may not be able to destroy the vampire, but he was certain that the vampire would not be able to harm him either.  
At least, thought he, having Dracula here would at least end his boredom.


	2. 2

Alexander looked around the hotel and suppressed a groan. It was beginning to seem like a wild goose chase. It seemed highly unlikely for any vampire hunter to be in a place as remote as this. It was equally improbable for one as successful as Hawthorn to be taking a break and that too in a place like this. 

Vampire hunters, he knew from experience, were tough, tenacious and not in the habit of taking breaks unless it was in the vicinity of some unfortunate and unsuspecting vampire. Yet, his informant had been positive. Alexander frowned and cursed the chance that had caused him to be out of the country when the call came.  
The message had been to his personal number and had he been there, he could have asked Barry for a description of Hawthorn. That Barry had not been seen or heard from since was proof enough that he had come across Hawthorn. Alexander was not too upset over Barry’s death, but he certainly wished Barry’s message had been more coherent. From the garbled message, he was able to understand that Barry has seen Hawthorn at New York airport about to board a flight to this place for a short break for settling his nerves. 

Wild goose chase or not, Alexander was certainly not going to ignore it. But he did wish that Barry had included a description of Hawthorn. As it was, Hawthorn could be anyone from the interested tourist standing at the corner gazing at a map of the island, from the sober looking man reading a newspaper to the half naked young man clad only in a towel flirting with the reception clerk. Or even, as unlikely as it may seem, the attractive brunette who was manning the reception.

The young man who was flirting with the receptionist turned, took a couple of steps and then turned back again. Alexander decided that nothing was to be gained by standing there at the entrance. He strode purposefully towards the front desk. The young man turned then and all but bumped into him.

“Excuse me,” muttered the young man, not meeting Alexander’s eye. Alexander felt amused at the stranger’s obvious embarassment.

“It’s all right,” he said as the stranger brushed past him and all but ran to the lift. Alexander caught a whiff of a scent that made him frown. He knew that scent, though at the moment he could not place it. It was familiar but he could not remember where he had known it.

“How may I help you, sir?” asked the reception clerk and her smile seemed a bit forced. Alexander realized he was still frowning and smoothed his features into a smile. Time enough to worry about that young man, he decided. Besides, he was here for Hawthorn. He could not afford to get sidetracked.

Alexander was still frowning a bit as he walked into the lift. It had only then occurred to him that though he would not be able to know Hawthorn, the vampire hunter would almost certainly know who he was. Even if Hawthorn did not know who exactly he was, he was certain to recognize him as a vampire. Vampire hunters had a sixth sense where vampires were concerned and Hawthorn’s record showed him to be possessed of a seventh, eighth and ninth sense as well. 

There was not, to his knowledge, a single vampire who had survived an encounter with Hawthorn. Even those like Barry, who had come across him accidentally had not lived to tell the tale. It was the most fortunate of chances that Barry could make that phone call before Hawthorn got him. Hawthorn was beginning to seriously annoy Alexander.

But having to hunt for Hawthorn was certainly going to relieve his tedium at being in a sleepy place like this.


	3. 3

Max was thoughtful as he entered the restaurant. Dracula, he noticed, was sitting alone in a table near the entrance, apparently engrossed in the newspaper. Max walked past him to his usual table. Having ordered his usual breakfast, he watched his quarry. It was surprising that he should have remembered Lucard so clearly. But now that he was seeing him, Max could see that every feature was just as he remembered. Of course, at ten, Max had not really noticed how good looking the vampire was, though he was noticing it now. Max scowled so fiercely at that thought that the waiter who brought his breakfast became quite flustered.

Max forced a smile at the man and took his eyes off the vampire and attempted to concentrate on his breakfast. He might have been chewing sand paper for all the enjoyment he derived out of it. And the coffee which he knew was made just the way he liked it was as tasteless as water. 

I am too wound up, thought Max, forcing himself to relax. Though he had not expected to run into a vampire here, now that he had, there was nothing for him to do, but to accept it. The only trouble was, Dracula was hardly any vampire. And Max was almost certain that Lucard was there because he had received information that Hawthorn was there. Of course, Max could try to attack Dracula, though he was not an easy prey. Max knew it was quite possible for the hunter to become the hunted while dealing with Lucard. His chances of success were nearly zero, he knew.

All Max could hope now was that his enemy did not know what he looked like. But even if Lucard didn't know him from Adam, it was still possible that he might recognize him as Max. And once that happened, there was no doubt that he would be putting two and two together. Max gave a mental shrug. It might be better to turn his thoughts to something else. There was nothing he could do about the present situation unless he went through with his plans for leaving. And that, he realized, was the last thing he wanted to do. In spite of the danger, he wanted to stay.  
Max picked up the newspaper. Maybe, he would find something in there to divert his attention.   
Alexander caught a whiff of a familiar fragrance as the young man walked past him to a table at the other end of the room. He looked just as good fully clothed, thought Alexander and was startled at that thought. He studied the young man over the top of his newspaper, trying to figure out where and how he knew him. That he was fairly well acquainted with him was certain. But try as he might, he could not remember. He frowned. It was not normal for him to forget. It was even more unlikely that he might have made a mistake.   
He recognized the young man's smell. And therefore he knew him. But the surprising thing was, how he could have forgotten a man as remarkable as that one. It was not the looks that made him remarkable. He was good looking, true, but not exceptionally so. It was something about the look in his eyes, the set of his jaws. Resolution. Determination. Character, thought Alexander. But not at the first glance. Only when you observe closely. And Alexander was observing very closely indeed.  
It was no blinding flash from above, but Alexander was certain that if Hawthorn was indeed in this godforsaken resort, then he had found him. He studied him with even more care than before. Taking him out might be harder than he had anticipated. Of course, he had not expected it to be easy but having seen his enemy, Alexander had the feeling that he may have met his match. It was equally certain that the vampire hunter might have recognized him. Which meant that he might well be the one in danger.  
But he was not going to turn tail and run, though that might be the prudent thing to do. He was intensely curious about how and where he had met Hawthorn and how he had forgotten. Alexander closed his eyes, trying to remember that scent and what it reminded him of. But it was not possible. The various aromas in the restaurant was interrupting his concentration. With a sigh, he opened his eyes. 

Just then, the young man rose from his table, having finished his breakfast. Alexander drew a deep breath. Hawthorn, if it was him, will have to pass him on the way out. Alexander closed his eyes again, blocking out every thought and sense. If he could simply concentrate on that particular smell without any distractions, he might be able to remember.   
The smell came then, tantalizingly familiar. And with it came a memory. A dark night and an enemy he had destroyed. And-. Alexander's eyes flew open. He looked around, almost wildly, but the young man was gone. Alexander sat there, stunned. If he had a heart, thought Alexander, it would be racing now. His breathing was certainly fast. He signalled for his bill, his mind in turmoil.  
It was not surprising that he had forgotten. How could he have known? He rose from his table and strode to the reception desk. He had to make sure. It was not likely that he had made a mistake. But it did not hurt to have confirmation.  
He smiled at the reception clerk, a different girl today.   
“Hi,” said he with his most charming smile. “An old friend of mine is staying here. Could you please give me his room number? His name is Townsend. Max Townsend.”  
The girl checked her computer. “Mr. Townsend is staying in Room 202, sir.”  
“Thank you,” murmured Alexander.  
He felt almost dazed. Max was Hawthorn! His mind could not accept the fact. Though Max had always wanted to be a vampire hunter, it had never occurred to Alexander that he could end up being the cold blooded killer that Hawthorn was reputed to be. In fact, Alexander always felt that Max would grow out of his fascination with the supernatural. The Max he remembered was too nice, too compassionate for his own good. How had that child turned into this man?   
Alexander stopped. He was standing in front of Max's room. He knew Max was inside. He also knew that he should turn around and go to his room. And then do the sensible thing and pack his bags and leave. After all, Max had saved his life once. And even if he was planning to forget that, there was nothing he could do right then. It was daytime and he had no vampire powers.   
Ignoring the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door, Alexander knocked.


	4. 4

Max was startled to hear the knock. He was also feeling somewhat irritated. He could not imagine who it could have been, to totally ignore the “Do Not Disturb” sign. It could not be any of the hotel staff. But he knew no one there. No one who would ignore a “Do Not Disturb” sign anyway.  
He waited a moment to know if the person would go away. But the knock was repeated. Probably some kid, thought Max. Thinking it funny to knock on their neighbours' doors.   
He opened the door with a scowl, prepared to meet a giggling toddler. He froze, stunned at seeing Lucard. Max felt winded, short of breath. He had not expected it, though he should have.   
“Maximillian,” said Alexander quietly, breaking the silence. “It has been a long time.”  
“Lucard,” acknowledged Max, wondering how on earth he was recognized.  
And then ignoring all his training, Max threw caution to the winds.  
“Won't you come inside?” he asked.  
Alexander's lifted his eyebrows in surprise, though all he said was, “So said the spider to the fly, if I remember right.”  
Max smiled a bit grimly as he closed the door. “You are hardly a helpless fly, not even during the day time, if I remember right.”  
Alexander made no response, just glancing around the room. “So, you have realized your childhood ambition and became a vampire hunter. The best in the business too.”  
Max shrugged, but said nothing.   
Alexander regarded Max gravely. “I never expected you to change so much,” he said softly. “I never expected you to become so ruthless, if reports are to be believed.”  
Max stared at Alexander in surprise. Then he recovered his composure. “I was ten when you knew me,” said he. “I grew up, that's all.”  
“Yes,” said Alexander, “You have certainly grown up.”  
There was a glint in the vampire's eyes and Max was suddenly feeling a bit breathless.   
“Look,” said he. “I appreciate the visit, but I am not feeling in the mood for reminiscences. It is day time, so there isn't much you can do to me either. So why don't you just leave?”  
“Nothing I can do?” murmured Alexander, with the same glint in his eyes. “On the contrary, there's a great deal I can do, that I wish to do.”  
The vampire moved almost in slow motion and yet, Max realized what was happening only when he was in the vampire's arms. And then Alexander's mouth found his and Max stopped thinking. His brain shouted one final warning as Max opened his mouth in response, but Max found it was exceedingly easy to ignore his brain.  
Alexander sighed deeply as he lifted his head, though his arms still held Max close.   
“I take it, you did not come here for this,” said Max.  
“No,” muttered Alexander. “Which is making me wonder about my sanity.”  
Max grinned. “If you are crazy, then so am I.”  
Alexander smiled a bit half heartedly. “You seem to be taking this quite complacently,” said he.  
“No, not complacently,” said Max. “My brain has just shut down.”  
“I came here to kill you,” said Alexander.  
“Surely, not during the day time?” protested Max.  
Alexander tried to frown, but ended up smiling. “No, but- Max, be serious. I did not know you were Hawthorn, but I did come here to kill him.”  
“I knew you were Dracula and my greatest ambition was to drive a stake through your heart.” Max looked at Alexander. “I am being serious. What happened now was totally unexpected, but it still feels right somehow. And I think I want to know where it will lead. If you have no objections, that is.”  
Alexander's arms tightened around Max. “As long as you are not going to regret it when your brain starts working again.”  
“I don't think there's any danger of that,” said Max. “When you look at me like that, my brain is in a state of permanent meltdown.”  
Alexander smiled. It was crazy. It was not like him. But what the hell, thought he as Max's arms went round him and his lips found his, he was getting tired of his old self anyway.


End file.
